Inked
by Kintsukori
Summary: The conflict between good and evil is one of the most common conventional themes and a universal part of the human condition. The initial split in society between consequence versus action is an aspiring Hero's personal struggle, especially when the rest of the world is already convinced she's a villain. Non-cannon. Slow burn. Rated T for language and mature themes.
1. You Won't Believe This False Hope

"A tattoo is a true poetic creation, and is always more than meets the eye. As a tattoo is grounded on living skin, so its essence emotes a poignancy unique to the mortal human condition." ― V. Vale, _Modern Primitives: An Investigation of Contemporary Adornment and Ritual_

You Won't Believe This False Hope

There's a saying that states, 'Home is where the heart is'. Cliche and a bit lackluster but mimicked Ena's souring mood to a 'T'.

Musutafu lacked the archaic, industrial charm that was Bunkyō. Ena felt out of place as much as a book in a world of tablets; less convenient but a classic, nonetheless.

Then again, she didn't really fit into's Bunkyō's stringent regime either. The historic but severely outdated educational prefecture conformed once Quirks were introduced: rickshaws around the Nezu Shrine were pulled via animal-type users. Whilst the Kōdōkan Judo followed in the steps of the widely popular and successful U.A. and Shiketsu schools and adapted itself into Hero High. Even 'Tokyo's Big Egg', the prestigious Tokyo Dome and home to the Yomiuri Giants, was modified as a colosseum for hero training.

Despite the vast improvement to the times, however, their bigotry and disgust towards anyone who didn't meet their standards remained steadfast.

Ogamisama no Ena suspected U.A. High would be no different from her prior school and fully expected to meet the same cool behavior she faced from her peers as she did at Hero High.

* * *

The school was courtesy enough to provide generic furniture, so she needed very little to get settled in. The first-year student brought only the necessities and a few memorable trinkets. Among the boxes of clothes and several mismatched blankets she brought a singular frame that included her family during the Azalea Festival.

The amenities certainly lacked in terms of feeling like 'home away from home' but it wasn't exactly stifling, either.

By the following morning, Ena had unpacked and tidied her room and sat staring out her balcony to the awakening of Musutafu. With the commencement of dawn breaching the horizon. The liquid gold began to bathe the city in its gentle rays. Its gleam shone off of U.A.'s many windows like dew in the pasture.

Trapped in her own world, Ena gradually lost track of time as it unwound like a piece of thread. Before she knew it the sun was clambering higher in the sky and class would begin shortly.

Donning her gakuseifuku was strangely more comfortable than she anticipated and fitted handsomely. Surely, a school as well regarded as U.A. wouldn't fail even in terms of school uniforms.

She meant to leave earlier but was constantly having to soothe her nerves. No doubt her siblings would've teased her for 'first day jitters' but this was deeply rooted than just being anxious.

The walk to the actual campus was _supposedly_ five minutes but the young hero had a noticeable difficult time moving her legs on her own.

She avoided the curious gazes of her classmates as she trudged into the entryway and stashed her belongings into the locker assigned for her. The duration of her morning was spent with the Principal as he gave her a decisively brief orientation.

Even though she was sure the esteemed faculty gave a delightful speech, welcoming her to the pride and joy that was his school, she was distracted by her unwavering desire to pet him.

Principal Nezu was set on making sure she had a rewarding experience at U.A. Though mostly lecturing, the head of faculty had a serene nature to him. A surprising feat given that you'd half expect him to be resentful towards humans considering his torturous past.

"Here at our school," the hybrid mouse beamed. "We make sure that every student has a chance of receiving a brighter future ahead of them."

By the time he concluded his long-winded lecture he had finished his cup of tea, though Ena hadn't touched the fragrant herbal mix once.

"We have been feeling the effects since we lost our 'Symbol of Peace' and need more individuals willing to step up to the role of a hero and **you** are absolutley no exception young Ogamisama. Your homeroom teacher is especially well-trained in helping students out with their Quirks. With the guidance of the teachers here I have no doubt you'll be Plus Ultra!"

_Yeah, right_, she scoffed inwardly. The mouse was seriously enthusiastic about being apart of U.A. for sure.

As the conversation began to dwindle the shōji slid open. A haggard man, who upon sitting down looked like he had just woken up from a coma and cursed with a patchy beard mumbled, still half-asleep, "Excuse my absence."

"Thank you for joining us," squealed the principal. "We were just getting Miss Ogamisama caught up on our day-to-day basis."

The man grumbled in response but sent a sparing look to the new student. Eraser had been told in advance of her lack of _transparency _with her ability.

"This is your homeroom teacher, Mr. Aizawa. As of this semester you will be in class 1-A till until we get you situated."

"Please treat me well," Ena nodded respectfully.

His response? A grunt.

"So you're the transfer from Hero High?"

_No room for sugar-coating._

Ena considered her words carefully as she gritted her teeth. Feeling her enamel practically breaking from the pressure.

"Yes," she said with a hint of agitation. Attempting to keep her tone as polite as possible. "Yes, I was." She added more quietly.

Aizawa, who remained pretty laid back during the altercation, was animated as he continued, "I've read your report. If you so much as hurt **any** of your fellow classmates you can be guaranteed an expulsion would be _light_ from what you might face here. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

"Yes, sir."

Nezu looked fiercely uncomfortable, and was about to step in before the homeroom teacher sighed. A green vial appeared from the depths of his black jumper. Aizawa placed one drop of the sticky substance into his eyes and blinked rapidly.

Dry-eye was a bitch, honestly.

There was a pregnant pause as Ena's fleeting hope was dissipated in a manner of sentences.

"Now then," the principal intervened. "Allow Mr. Aizawa to take you to your class. I'm sure your fellow classmates are eager to meet your acquaintance." He said as rushed the two out of his office. As the door closed abruptly behind them, Principal Nezu let out a breathe of relief.

_Aizawa could be intense when he wanted to be. Thought that was part of his philosphy,_ Nezu surmised.

As the two made their way to class, a heavy air of silence weighed upon Ena. _So much for a warm welcome._

Aizawa stopped suddenly.

His fatigue outweighed his speech but he managed to mumble a coherent sentence. "I don't know what happened at your previous school, and frankly I don't care. However, whatever trials or pain you went through there will not follow you here."

_Uh, thanks?_

The young hero thought this was the supposed Pro-Hero's attempt at reassuring her. Though poorly put, it did lift her broken spirts a little(?).

"I'm also sorry to tell you but for the next three years U.A. will run you through the wringer. That's 'Plus Ultra'. So if even you want to be a Pro-Hero you have to be ready. My class will prepare you for nearly every obstacle, but some do come purely from experience," the sleepy man continued. "You have much to learn, so do your best."

_Wow, you should be a motivational speaker, _Ena quipped mentally.

"I'll make an introductory speak and then you'll introduce to yourself to the class."

She feared that. Public speaking wasn't necessarily bad but they wouldn't even pay attention to what she was saying.

The door was a towering wooden shōji that was fiercely intimidating. Class 1-A.

Aizawa walked in just as a student was barking for everybody to take their seats.

"Good morning class," he greet with an air of exhaustion. "We have a transfer. Please be kind to Ogamisama no Ena."

_Best. Introductory. Speech. Ever._

Her walk to the front seemed to take forever, she could feel butterflies dance in anticipation in her stomach.

"Please be kind to me," she said forcibly.

As she suspected the whole class was utterly silent. Their expression presented a range of emotions.

Her entire body, except for her face, were completely covered in tattoos.

* * *

**A/N:** This story begins shortly after All Might lost his ability but pretty much becomes non-cannon from than on. So the actual storyline and my own are pretty much going there own way like all my relationships do...

Jeremiah please come back.

Chapter Published: 04/28/2019

Word Count: 1, 503


	2. Pride, Prejudice, and Tattoos

"Prejudice is a learned trait. You're not born prejudiced; you're taught it."-Charles R. Swindoll

Pride, Prejudice & Lots of Tattoos

There was a large Jorō residing in Ena's dormitory bathroom.

Stunned by its untimely appearance, in _her_ sink of all places, it stared back at her with unblinking iridescent red irises.

Arbitrarily, it decided the tattooed hero scarcely posed any imminence and instead attempted to free itself of the porcelain trap otherwise known as a sink.

"How did you even get in here?" Ena scowled. The arachnid in question gave a decisive look as it bounded for the rim of the bowl again.

The _Nephila Clavata_ was seldom bigger than the palm of a hand yet this one seemed to be anomaly- an outliner.

Tired of its antics and blocking the way of her routine, Ena grabbed her workbook and waited for it to waltz on. Thankfully the female 'Fortune-Teller Spider' didn't require further invitation and glided on amiably.

Inarguably grateful for not being flushed down the toilet, the spider remained idle as Ena- rather quickly- walked to the balcony. Careful not to agitate the not-so-itsy-bitsy-spider, seeing as her thumb was directly underneath its pinchers, Ogamisama opened the glass doors to the outside world.

Musutafu was suffering from a severe cold spell. Not necessarily the ideal habitat for her eight-legged friend as it was undoubtedly looking for a warmer place to reside till the weather become more palatable to the arthropods nature.

The first-year transfer had a split tattoo of this exact spider on her forearms but again- _why this particular bathroom_?

The youngest of the Ogamisama's had half a mind to just fling it off into the freezing evening then switched last minute and ultimately decided to scoot it off and hope it landed safely among the brush underneath the windows on the first floor.

The unexpected shrill scream that followed scared both Ena and whatever poor fellow's head that high-pitched cry belonged to. Not waiting around to be seen as the culprit, Ena ran back in and closed the door firmly before clambering into bed.

_At least it's okay, _she joked lightly.

Her residency was desolate and offered only prickling discomfort. The chill from the outside world creeping in was thwarted by many snug blankets from home.

_Home._

Ena achingly tried to avoid thinking of her _menage_.

When she acclimated to the shift in environment she meant to call her family and tell them all about the relocation with some degree of success.

But didn't have the heart to lie.

Few families were as kind and genial towards their daughter as the Ogamisama's. Truly supportive by all means yet like all parents they worried. Especially when their own flesh and blood moved across prefectures from them. No denying the designated journey was of noble merit, but even so that was still their very own child.

Ogamisama no Ophelia, parent to five children, and like all mothers, Qurikless or not, didn't need to see her progeny to know something was wrong.

Both of the senior guardians wanted nothing except the world for their troubled teen but admitting elusion to everyone would basically crush them.

Naturally, her isolation from others was self-inflicted except it wasn't without reasoning. Previous trying experiences left a bitter taste that still lingered.

_Nobody can hurt you unless given the chance to do so. _

Steering all thoughts related to home, she diverged her focus to the first day at U.A.

Displaying no posthaste when homeroom ended, Ena swiftly evaporated into the congested halls immediately. Ena didn't want to succumb to the grueling carouse of her classmates making false pleasantries. That opportunity would not present itself so easily.

The aspiring hero **loathed **anything remotely involving the conviction of chit-chatting about herself or anyone else. After all, this was a place to learn on how to become a Pro-Hero not to hear about how much your dad makes, who makes your costumes, etc.

Nobody was here to make friends.

However, she couldn't run into the corridors forever. At some point she was going to deal with the punches and roll with whatever challenges presented.

The challenge being engaging in social 'pleasantries'.

Cooperativeness was a major aspect of being a Hero; the ability to be paired with Quirks and creating solutions to various bleak problems was an essential part of the job.

The job description didn't exactly say you have to be buddy-buddy with them either.

Most likely, as of tomorrow she would have to meet her colleagues and assess their names with their Quirks in order to be better suited for this lifestyle.

She wholeheartedly wished it didn't sound as miserable as intended.

Like the buggy-eyed intruder earlier, she was obviously not the only one out of her element and far from home.

* * *

The inked Hero barely got a wink of sleep.

Beyond exhaustion and frustrated as of recent she resolved to dragging herself out of the exceptionally inviting bed and start another arduous day.

The bathroom was thankfully spider-free and handily available to do her winding routine.

Ena loosely plaited her hair and donned a fresh uniform and left the quiet bedroom behind. Leaving long before the the rest of the tenants could wipe the sleep from their eyes.

Instead of using the front door like any civilized person Ena simply leaped from the metal-railed balcony. It was seriously better than any social interaction she might've encountered. It was only a two-story drop after all.

With the grace of a desolate cat, Ena landed on the finely trimmed grass and bounded for the market not far from school.

The brisk morning felt unpleasant against the thin wool stockings and the exposed portion of her thigh. The first-year student sniveled her nose as she calculated precisely how much time needed to make it back in time for class.

Plumes of purple and pink exploded from the horizon as the sun laboriously peaked from behind the clouds.

The groomed landscape slowly transformed from the glistening beacon of hope into the concrete jungle that was Musutafu.

Busy and bolstering, the streets were packed at 6:45am. Small but tenacious in the sea of adults, Ena matched the civilians pace into nearby markets. Though few were generally open this unseasonably, one in particular was stuffed with several business entrepreneurs eager to get a bun before their arid shifts at their equally uneventful firms.

Rows upon rows of neatly displayed anpans, milk buns, and pillowy soft shokupans lined the shelves in nearly perfect symmetric arrangements. Among the carb inducing delights, our newest hero spotted an overflowing cornet with chocolate cream. Hardly appropriate as a breakfast option but a treat that couldn't be ignored.

While waiting in line she overheard a conversation taking place. Initially she ignored the tedious conversations at public locations but somehow managed to find herself tilting towards the source.

"They're dirty," scolded one distinguished voice above the group.

Another followed shortly, "You know there's a history of criminals having tattoos. They helped identify them, too."

Another exclaimed, "Do you think they're real?"

"Did her parents cry when she showed them?"

"Please like anybody respectable would have those and have parents who cared."

"It's fine if people want to get them. Just don't put them out in front of others."

Their voices seemed to muffle into one another and became one screeching sound jarring Ena's ear canals.

Calloused to this type of behavior, she decided it was better to ignore them and dodge any further scrutiny.

That is, at least, how she wished it went.

One voice rose among the calamity and blurted spitefully, "Who in their right mind would want to love somebody who ruined their body like that? Nobody! Tattoos are for low class people like _her._"

Whilst the unidentified voice didn't point out the location of said person she felt like there was a red neon arrow floating just above her head and shouted 'LOOK HERE TO SEE THE FREAK'.

The air market fell quiet as they looked at their polished shoes or leered at the high-school girl in disgust. Tension was thick and weighed heavily. Suffocation was crawling steadily and her field of vision was gradually turning white. Wrath was sinking its teeth into her core and Ena felt a sudden lack of control over her unwinding facade.

Abandoning the bun back on the shelf, the defeated heroine left without any confrontation with the heckler.

Ena for a brief moment wondered deeply if the people she swore to protect were even worth saving.

* * *

With a mood that was infinitely soured and a grumbling stomach subsequently denied promised nourishment she trudged back to campus.

Had she pursued the harasser she would only affirm their belief. That colorful souls with tattoos are low-class, dirty, and above all else un-respectable individuals of an otherwise prejudice society.

Quirks can alter appearances to give extra limbs, eyes, horns, or skin augmentation but tattoos were still widely banned from certain establishments and areas in Japan.

Superpowers were a fairly new concept and affected a whooping eighty percent of the world population but the Yakuza, gangsters identified solely by their ink, were still widely feared. Though gone in terms of crime, generations had felt their presence long before Quirks did.

Thus prejudice was indisputably common. An isolationist idea of society mixed with racial purity and you wind up with a country that ends up believing they are above everyone else.

Respectively this day couldn't possibly get any more crumby than it already was and against better judgment our heroine walked twenty minutes early into class.

Her surprise came when a couple of stragglers were already in their assigned seats.

Tenya Iida, the class representative she later learned, was always there before anyone else.

Upon arrival, the bizarre man rushed to the front and greeted her with an endless supply of enthusiasm.

"I am Tenya Iida, your class representative, though you may call me Tenya. My deputy is currently not here but she will be equally delighted to make your acquaintance," he introduced excitedly. "How have you enjoyed our esteemed school?"

"It has been gracious," Ena replied shortly. Still sulking from the dilemma earlier. "Everyone has been kind, thank you."

"You left before our classmates could greet you properly. That is why I have taken it upon myself as your class representative to make sure you meet everybody in the proud 1-A."

Ena could swore she felt the color leave her face as she tersely replied, "That is _kind_ of you but not imperative."

"Nonsense! I am more than glad to grace you with our wonderful schoolmates."

Tenya stated firmly.

"I am so excited," Ena sarcastically grimaced. The fake smile teetered at the corners but went unnoticed by the hyper delegate.

_Clearly this day can get worse_. She should've just gotten it over with yesterday.

She had hoped that her immediate coolness towards her class would offset them from the get-go.

How horribly this ordeal turned out to be.

She sulked into her chair till she was almost level to the floor.

Tenya didn't see this as any indication to stop talking as he publicized every person in the room including the ones walking in.

"This fine young man is the Sturdy Hero: Red Riot, his name is Eijiro Kirishima." The young hero in question gave a studious wave and lopsided grin.

"This is Ochaco Uraraka, or Uravity, and is an excellent hero."

She had a bubbly air to her as she greet Ogamisama sweetly.

He. Did. This. For. Every. Single. Person. Including Denki, who mysteriously was suffering from an unknown spider bite that Jirou couldn't stop snickering at.

With each name and unnecessary piece of information she felt herself slowly dying inside.

"That's Mineta," he said bluntly. With no further elaboration.

"Hey," the Grape-Hero inquired. "Do you have tattoos near your private-"

It took her class leader a solid second to reach the perverted twerp. Iida squished his cheeks together to prevent another comment from slipping out.

"Try not to mind him too much," Tsuyu began apologetically. "His Quirk maybe 'Pop-Off' but he has a talent for being lewd. Ribbit."

_Did she just say…'ribbit'. I've clearly gone mad, _the heroine mentally deduced.

When her teacher hopped in wearing a pale yellow slumbering bag she took back her previous comment.

_I've definitely gone mad. My teacher cocooned himself._

"Alright class," he lectured. "Vlad King of Class 1-B and myself decided to do some technical training for class today. As a result you'll need to put on your Hero costumes."

The metal cases from the opposite room opened mechanically.

"Ena," Aizawa addressed. "Your costume needed some adjustments since it was originally damaged. You'll find minor changes but nothing that changed its design."

When students were asked to send in their hero costumes, Ena lacked the creativity that her associates proudly showcased. When she changed from her uniform to her stylized getup it was noted to be simplistic in its overall design.

A sleeveless kofurisode that was plum in color and had Diphelleia Grayi design paired with a dark green obi and white sash. Matched with a pair of black lacquer Zori to offset the traditional look.

The locker room, though cramped with both 1-B and 1-A's female counterparts jammed inside, she could feel some staring at her exposed skin. They were probably wondering why her tattoos seemed to move on their own accord.

There was a note in the case detailing any and all updates to the structure of her wardrobe including elasticity.

_Interesting._

* * *

The arena was considerably empty with no festival taking its place. There among the homeroom teachers was Cementoss. Ena recognized him from watching the sports festival in Bunkyo.

"Now," Vlad gruffed. "Our two classes will focus primarily on using our ultimate moves against one another. Without Ectoplasm involved you have to consider that you'll actually be up against individuals who have their _own_ move to counterattack."

The sleepy teacher, free from his sleeping bag, added, "Cementoss will be here not only as the proctor for today's course but to rectify any damage done. Take note also, with the exception of Bakugo and Todoroki we have thirty-nine students who will be participating in today's lesson. So someone from Class 1-B will most likely go twice."

The two males in question seemed to be put off but not exactly surprised either.

"Hang on! Tattoos is participating isn't she?" Exploded the blonde. Iida leaned back with a grimace.

"Don't take anything he says personally, he's just always in a bad mood," Tenya whispered.

"What did you say Motor-Oil?!" Bakugo screeched.

Mr. Aizawa intervened, "_Ena_ has her provisional license. All schools in the hero track participated in the exam. Including Hero High."

Someone from 1-B joked that Bakugo would most likely never receive any sort of license with his bad attitude. Ena couldn't help but agree.

Something about Katsuki Bakugo told her they would not get along merrily.

As the teachers dutifully explained the rules, she noted on the scoreboard who she was paired up against.

Neito Monoma.

_Who the fuck was that?_

"Who the hell is Ogamisama no Ena?" It was the same voice that scolded Katsuki's poor behavior.

The blonde man made eye-contact with the tattooed hero and gave her a rather distasteful look over.

Taking in the many dark tattoos and minimal design of her costume, the copycat decided in advance she was likely to fail.

His disdain for Class 1-A resonated deeply.

Since there was no need to climb in the stadium, the students stood on the outer ring of the arena away from the pinnacle of action.

"This works exactly like the sports festival. The first opponent to step outside the line is disqualified. This isn't a competition, but merely a test on your skills against individuals of similar experience. So do your best." Aizawa assured.

First up was a surprising match of Uraraka versus Yui Kodai. Both were similar in terms of activating their Quirks but Uraraka effortless dodged the slew of incoming objects and managed to float her opponent away.

Ena noted that some of her experience came from her fight with Katsuki. Gravity's growth was expectational. Much to Class 1-B's dismay.

The following duo was Eijiro Kirishima against Hiryu Rin, another win for Class 1-A after Kirishima placed a well-timed hit against his opponents chest after a rain of onslaught to lower his defense.

Another strategy picked up from a fight with Katsuki.

Then, to her surprise, her name was called with the blondes.

Cheered on by his peers while hers shouted words of encouragement. Neither class was exactly aware of what the new transfers ability was.

Neito had already deduced it was in correlation with the tattoos. A pregnant pause weighed as they waited for the start.

"Neito needs to touch his opponent in order to copy their power, but does that work when the copier doesn't have a tattoo?" Momo asked openly. Her party members dually wondered the same thing.

The rivals at first stared, one was a close distance while the other was a long range fighter but again, Monoma was blissfully unaware of the others capability.

Stretching out her right arm a trail of black smoke spiraled out of her bicep. At first, the Phantom Thief described it as wisps of translucent tentacles twisting frantically but as they arranged themselves it transfigured as a massive cat with an impossibly outstretched tail.

"Nekomata rise," Ena commanded darkly.

As the shape got more solid, Monoma grew more fearful.

That wasn't a cat.

**That** was a monster.

Large fangs found primarily in the most voracious of predators stuck out as drool collected on its razor-sharp incisors. Narrow black slits watched him passionately while its tails swished back and forth playfully.

The riddle of tension threatened to break as everyone waited with baited breath for Monoma to make his move.

He had to think about this critically, rushing towards her would ensure his untimely departure. Neito could only imagine what they would say at his funeral.

_"__This man seriously rushed somebody who conjured a twelve-foot cat out of thin air and was like 'Imma see if I can fight her'."_

Neito, in the end, voluntarily walked off.

Much to the uproar of his teammates who only moments ago said this fight would be an easy victory for Class 1-B.

In retrospect her own class seemed to be in a state of shock. Such a unique Quirk! Vastly unusual in the line of Heros.

Vlad raised his eyebrows, the two teachers watched as the cat quickly evaporate back into the outstretched arm.

"I'm surprised they even allowed someone so young to have tattoos," Vlad mumbled from his spot on the outskirts.

Aizawa shrugged, "When Quirks are involved most rules are bendable. Assuming she went somewhere legal to get ink that is. The Iida Family once had a difficult time when the question of whether or not motorized Heroes needed an actual driving license to navigate Hosu. Especially when Tensei was able to outpace actual veichles . The court ruled that it was unfavorable since you had to be of age to get a license. Which would've stippled anybody from a young age from joining the hero course. Same exception with Ena."

"How does someone know they have such a Quirk without getting tattooed in the first place?" Momo, who had eavesdropped on the extent of the conversation, asked. Whether or not Eraserhead was aware that it was his student and not Vlad himself asking, he answered, "I suppose her grandmother had something to do with that." Which only left Creati to ponder further on the mystery shrouding her newest companion.

Needless to say, Ena was not the wallflower she so desperately wanted to be.

Izuku who watched the entire altercation, baffled by how not only her rare ability was but the fact that she deeply reminded him of Todoroki during the Sports Festival.

Cause in that brief moment -when she used her ability -she looked so sad.

* * *

**Author's Note**: There is the Joint-Arc training following in the Magna/Anime but I won't be including it in this particular story. I just wanted to specifically set the stage for my OC to showcase her ability. Because I love my anti-social OC.

If you want to see a more descriptive picture of the Nekomata, an old folklore, type 'Nekomatea Naruto' into google. You'll find it.

**To my fellow reviewers:**

Anonymous: I will trying to keep my chapters longer as I do hope to fill more character outlining in the future. Thank you for the advice!

Red Roses for Stones: I'm trying to update every Monday and whenever I can in the week but I have work and school to deal with. Today was an exception since I posted it on Tuesday but I'm glad you enjoyed.

Word Count: 3, 613

Updated: May 06, 2019

Atmospheric Music: Rose Tattoo by Dropkick Murphy's

P.S. I generally listen to music while I write only because I tend to overthink so if I have some background noise I'm not such a nuisance in terms of perfecting my chapters.


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